


Into You

by hatrickane (dandelionwhiskey)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Massage, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 00:38:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14249295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionwhiskey/pseuds/hatrickane
Summary: Patrick finds out some things he'd never known before.Patrick enlists Jonny's help to explore those things.





	Into You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Milk It! 1988 Prostate Production fic fest. It's most definitely a PWP. Big thanks to Rachel for her wonderful beta work.

Jonny starts when Patrick slams a sweaty beer on the table next to him, almost knocking over his half-empty gin and tonic. “Jesus.”

“I’m striking the fuck out tonight,” Patrick says gloomily. “I thought I had something going with that blonde over there.”

Jonny glances over. She’s tall, pretty face, and definitely out of Kaner’s league. Jonny takes a sip of his drink and raises his eyebrows. “Okay,” he says, “so what went wrong?”

Patrick sighs and picks at the label on his beer. “We were dancing, right, and she reaches back to grab my ass.”

Jonny waits for Patrick to continue, but he just keeps making that same despondent face and staring at his beer. Jonny blinks.

“So?”

“So?” Patrick lowers his voice to mock Jonny’s and rolls his eyes. “I’m not into that. I should be the one grabbing  _ her _ ass, right?”

Jonny laughs and drains the rest of his drink. “I never took you for a prude.” 

“I’m not a prude,” Patrick scoffs. “Just, like, what’s in it for me?” 

“I guess being good at hockey meant you never had to pay attention in health class, huh?”

Patrick gestures to the bartender to get them another around. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jonny never expected to give his teammate a lesson on male anatomy in the middle of a dive bar, but here he is. Patrick listens with rapt attention. He snaps at Jonny a few times ( _ I know what a prostate is, thank you very much _ ) but is mostly curious.

“Go figure. We have a g-spot in our asses. What kind of sick joke is that?”

Jonny shrugs and takes a long swig of his beer. “Don’t knock it until you try it.” 

Patrick looks thoughtful. 

///

Three days later, Jonny hears pounding on his front door and rolls his eyes, counting down in his head until Patrick just decides to use his key. Right on cue, Patrick opens the door and shouts his name down the hallway. 

“Good to see you too, Pat,” Jonny says flatly as Patrick bursts into his kitchen.

Jonny doesn’t have time to stand up from his kitchen island before Patrick crowds him into it and plants a hard, close-lipped kiss right on his mouth. Jonny sputters and tries to shove him, but Patrick has a vice grip on either side of his face and looks determined. 

“Wth’fck,” Jonny tries to say, muffled against Patrick’s mouth. 

When Patrick pulls back, his cheeks are pink and his eyes are narrowed angrily. “I can’t find it, so you have to do it for me.” 

Jonny blinks at him. “You’re going to have to elaborate.”

“I tried, like you said.” Patrick finally drops his hands from Jonny’s face and shrugs helplessly. “I couldn’t find it. But I was like - I was close, but I couldn’t get there.”

Jonny isn’t sure if it takes him so long to realize what Patrick’s talking about because he really doesn’t want to know, or if Patrick is deliberately being vague. When it does dawn on him - Patrick’s pink cheeks, his wild eyes, the way he admitted to not being able to do something - Jonny instinctively laughs.

“Oh, fuck you,” Patrick grumbles, socking Jonny on the shoulder. 

“How am I a part of this?” Jonny pushes Patrick away from him and reaches back for his mug of tea. “Did you try the internet?”

“I tried everything!”

“Go pick up a girl,” Jonny says. He thinks it’s a reasonable suggestion.

“How is a girl going to know how to find it?” Patrick moves away from Jonny and throws his cabinets open, probably in search for some kind of snack he knows Jonny doesn’t have. “It’s driving me crazy. I gotta know.”

“Get a toy,” Jonny suggests. Patrick throws an offended look over his shoulder, his hand still rummaging around in Jonny’s things. 

“That’ll look great as a Saturday morning Deadspin article,” he says flatly. 

Jonny sighs. “So your  _ only _ option is to proposition your friends?”

Patrick seems to have found a rolled up bag of tortilla chips, likely left over from Jonny’s last Superbowl party. He takes a bite of one and makes a face. “These are stale.” He shoves a handful into his mouth and walks back toward Jonny. “It’s the best one I got. Unless you think you can’t.”

Jonny bristles. “Don’t do that.” 

Pat juts out his lip. It has a tortilla crumb on it. “ _ Bet _ you can’t.” 

Their last bet had been just a few months prior, and Jonny had lost spectacularly. The (drunken, ridiculous) stakes were one favor, to be redeemed when the winner chose. It was too big, but Jonny had been so  _ sure _ that his team would win during warm ups. He should have known better than to give Kaner something to fight for. 

“God damn it, Kaner.” Jonny reaches up and brushes the chip off Patrick’s mouth. “You’re calling in your favor.”

Patrick crosses his arms over his chest and nods silently.

“Fine, whatever. But what was with the kiss?”

Patrick shrugs. “I mean, if you’re going to get all up in me, I figured I should at least kiss you first. But if you’re not into it, we don’t have to.” 

Where Patrick formed his romantic ideals, Jonny will never know. He rolls his eyes and holds up his hands in defeat. “Okay, okay. I’ll do it, but just because I owe you. And no kissing, it’s too weird.” 

“Oh, sure, that’s the weird part,” Pat says, and Jonny is strangely appreciative that he’s at least acknowledging how bizarre this situation is. “Well, come on.” Patrick shoulders past Jonny out of the kitchen, leaving him holding the now-empty bag of tortilla chips. 

“What, now?” Jonny tosses the bag on the counter and follows Patrick down the hallway.

“Why not?” Patrick shouts back. When Jonny follows him into the bedroom, he already has his shirt off. “I’m all ready to go.” 

“You’re such a romantic,” Jonny says. Patrick takes his pants off and digs around in the pockets before throwing them toward Jonny’s overflowing laundry hamper. “Guess I’m doing your laundry too, huh?”

“Maybe it’s a good excuse for you to do your own,” Patrick chirps. He tosses a tube over to Jonny and scoots up the bed, spreading his legs slightly and palming at his dick. 

Jonny just stares for a second. This got way out of hand. 

But Patrick looks unconcerned, eyebrows raised expectantly. Jonny rolls the bottle in his hands under the pretense of warming it, but he doesn’t know where to start. 

“Should I roll over?” Patrick asks. Jonny doesn’t have a good answer to that question. Annoyed, Patrick wriggles his hips. “Get with the program, Toews.”

“Ugh.” Jonny gestures for Patrick to get out of his underwear and kneels down on the bed, grabbing Patrick’s thighs and pulling him down further so his ass is exposed. Patrick goes surprisingly pliantly. His legs spread as Jonny kneels between them and runs a hand over the globe of Pat’s ass.

“Now who’s getting romantic,” Patrick says. He digs his bare heel into Jonny’s hip. Jonny hopes he’s not flushing too hard and gives Patrick a sour look. 

“Just learning the lay of the land.” 

Jonny snaps the cap off of the tube and squirts some onto his fingers. Patrick is soft, but he keeps pawing at himself, like he’s got the feeling that might change soon. Something about that makes the back of Jonny’s neck go warm.

When Jonny swipes his slick thumb up the crease of Patrick’s ass, he’s rewarded with a sigh and a slightly impatient heel in his back. He bites his lip and moves in a little closer, rubbing the pad of his finger against Patrick’s hole. 

“Just do it,” Pat whines. 

“It takes time,” Jonny says. “You have to be relaxed. It’ll be better if you enjoy it.” 

“I might enjoy it more if  _ you _ enjoyed it,” Patrick says, idly scratching his chest. 

Jonny dips his finger in shallowly, just adding and removing pressure in a slow rhythm. Patrick bites his lip. “I’m not into guys,” Jonny says, but it feels strange on his tongue. 

“Your loss.” At Jonny’s quizzical look, Patrick laughs. “I mean, I’m not either, I guess. I’m just less stuck up than you.” 

Jonny pushes his finger in to the first knuckle in one swift movement. Patrick grunts. 

“If you’re not into guys,” Patrick asks, “then how do you know how to do this?”

Jonny can feel his heart pick up a little as he starts to move his finger in and out of Patrick’s body, trying to ignore the inviting heat of it. “I’ve done it to myself.” 

“Mm.” Patrick rolls his hips down. “C’mon, just touch it. I want to know what it feels like.” 

It would be impossible to ignore the way Patrick’s cock is starting to plump up. Patrick is gently swiping his thumb over the head of it, loose fingers circled around the tip. It’s lazy, unhurried, and Jonny finds himself unconsciously licking his lips. 

He tries to curl his finger, the way he would on himself, but he doesn’t feel anything. Patrick huffs. “Come on.”

“I’m trying,” Jonny says. He presses in again at a different angle and is unsuccessful again. He slides his finger in deep, until his middle knuckle brushes up against Patrick’s hole. 

“Jonny,” Patrick whines. He’s fully hard now, even though Jonny hasn’t been able to find anything. Jonny swallows hard and palms at his crotch with his free hand. 

“I can’t,” Jonny says, but continues to thrust his finger in and out just to see Patrick’s expression. “It’s a bad angle.”

“Well, make it a good one,” Patrick suggests. 

It’s not the best idea Jonny’s ever had, but he’s already pretty far into this stupid endeavor so he doesn’t have much to lose. “Scoot up.” He shifts up the bed and situates himself behind Patrick, yanking him back against Jonny’s chest. 

“What the fuck.” Patrick squirms a little against him as Jonny pulls his thighs apart, hooking them around Jonny’s legs so he’s all spread out. Jonny rubs at the inside of Patrick’s leg for a moment before squirting some more lube into his hand and pressing his finger up against his entrance.

Patrick’s hair tickles Jonny’s nose. 

“This is how I would do it on myself,” Jonny mutters. He can feel the heat from his own breath radiate off of Patrick’s temple. “Better angle.” 

“Oh,” Patrick says, and Jonny decides not to comment on how airy it sounds. 

This time, when Jonny slides his finger in, it’s all different. Patrick is already slick and he takes it easily. Pressed up against him like this, Jonny can feel Patrick’s heartbeat and smell his skin and it adds something unexpected to the whole thing. 

“Get on with it.” Jonny realizes, belatedly, that he’s just been fucking Pat with his finger, his mind wandering and his eyes focused on Patrick’s dick. 

Definitely unexpected.

“Okay, here goes,” Jonny says, mostly to himself. He pushes his finger in to the knuckle and quirks it up, wriggling until he presses against that spongy spot just behind-

“Holy, oh.” Patrick tenses against Jonny’s chest. “I think that was it.”

“Mmhm.” 

Jonny continues rubbing up against it with rapid little movements and Patrick starts practically squirming in his lap. His breath is coming out in short puffs and Jonny watches as Patrick gives his dick a hard squeeze. 

After a moment, Jonny lets up, going back to shallowly thrusting his finger into Pat’s body. “So,” he says, “that’s what it feels like.” 

“Your shirt is chafing my back,” Patrick says. 

Jonny rolls his eyes. “Sorry, your majesty.” 

“Do it again,” Patrick says softly. 

Jonny can’t find it in him to argue. He rubs up against Patrick’s prostate ruthlessly, grinning into his shoulder as Pat makes his quiet sounds and wriggles around his his lap. Damned if Patrick was going to assume Jonny couldn’t do this. 

“Your shirt,” Patrick complains. “And your belt, shit. It hurts.” 

Jonny takes his finger out of Patrick long enough to scoop his shirt off over his head and wriggle out of his pants while Patrick just silently watches him and strokes his dick. When he yanks Patrick back against him, he isn’t expecting the wave of heat that casts over him when their skin touches. 

“Use two this time,” Patrick says as he spreads his legs back over Jonny’s. “I wanna-”

“Yeah, okay, I got it.” Jonny slides one finger back in, just to tease, until Pat grunts and rocks back against him. Resisting the urge to chuckle, Jonny taps at Patrick’s hole with a second finger. “Ready?”

“Uh-huh.” Patrick’s head falls back against Jonny’s shoulder and the curve of his nose is right there in front of Jonny’s eyes, from an angle he’s never seen it before. Jonny presses in the second finger, nice and deep, turning to rest his cheek against Patrick’s head. 

Jonny’s getting hard, now, and there’s no way Patrick can’t feel it against his back. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mind, because his hips just keep rolling down against Jonny’s fingers. Each movement drags his spine across Jonny’s dick, almost as if he’s doing it on purpose.

Patrick is hot around him, tight and wet and so receptive. Jonny is into the feeling of it, the pads of his fingers rubbing against him on the inside, and he gets lost in working him open. Patrick doesn’t seem to mind, at first, humming gratefully every few seconds and wiggling against Jonny’s body.

“How does it feel?” Jonny ventures to ask. 

“Fuck off, you know how it feels.” 

“Does it feel good?” 

Jonny needs to hear Patrick say it. He twists his fingers up against Patrick’s prostate and strokes, and the noise Patrick makes goes straight to Jonny’s dick. He loops his free arm around Patrick’s chest, resting his thumb in the dip of his collarbone. 

“Yeah, Jonny, it feels good. Fuck,” Patrick hisses out between gritted teeth. He’s jerking himself off openly, and Jonny grinds his dick against Patrick’s back, and things are suddenly more intense than Jonny had bargained for. 

“More,” Patrick says so quietly that Jonny almost misses it. “Gimme more.” 

Jonny swallows thickly and pushes a third finger into Patrick, just to fill him up further while he presses against his prostate. Patrick is flexing around him, his half-lidded eyes falling completely shut while Jonny rubs at him. 

Patrick runs his fingers down Jonny’s forearm. His head rolls back and forth on Jonny’s chest and his hips pump in the air; he’s like a livewire in Jonny’s arms. When Jonny did this to himself, he liked it- but it was nothing like this. Patrick is warm and responsive, and Jonny is smearing precome into the small of his back.

It’s too much. 

Jonny bites his lip and puts an unrelenting pressure on Patrick’s prostate, circling his fingers against it until Patrick tenses up and comes all over himself. 

Once Patrick has caught his breath, Jonny eases his fingers out and slides out from behind him to grope for his underwear. He pulls them back on, trying not to hiss when his fingers brush against his hard-on, and looks over at Patrick on the bed. 

He’s still dazed. He’s panting, unfocused eyes staring hard at Jonny’s ceiling. 

“You good?”

“How do we live our lives without knowing about  _ that _ ?” Patrick asks. 

“Guess I did okay then,” Jonny says. Patrick rolls his eyes. 

“I would throw this pillow at you if I had any bones left in my body.” 

“You can use my shower,” Jonny offers, “after me.” 

////

So, yeah, it’s a little weird. 

It had gone further than Jonny anticipated, but Patrick isn’t acting any differently. They go out for dinner after the next game and he takes his usual spot next to Jonny, chirps him, steals food off of his plate. It’s as if Jonny hadn’t made him come a few days earlier, which is fine, Jonny thinks. Fine.

He wonders if Patrick has tried again. Then, he wonders if he’s allowed to ask. Then, he remembers it’s none of his goddamn business. 

But he still wonders. And when he does, his mind wanders, his dick gets hard, and he tries to remember the feeling of Patrick’s tight ass around his fingers. Tries to get that smell of Pat’s soap back in his nose. He jerks off and wonders, idly, what Patrick tastes like. 

Luckily, he’s only left wondering for a couple of weeks.

“Let me in,” Patrick shouts from the other side of Jonny’s door. 

“You have a key,” Jonny shouts back, and tries not to grin when he hears Patrick swear and fumble in his pockets. 

“Isn’t it easier to just open the door for me?” Patrick whines as he kicks the door shut behind him. Jonny flips him off. “I can see you in the hallway mirror, you fucker.” 

“To what do I owe the home invasion, Kaner?” Jonny dog-ears his page and tosses his book onto the coffee table. Patrick sits down on the love seat, right on the edge, twiddling his thumbs. His nervousness does not bode well. 

“I, uh, I was just wondering,” he starts slowly. “I don’t think your first lesson took.” 

Jonny blinks slowly. “Lesson?” It dawns on him a moment later what Patrick is referring to, and his eyebrows shoot up. “Oh. Did I not do it right?” 

“No, God-” Patrick swipes a hand over his face and won’t meet Jonny’s eyes. “I just mean. I still - I can’t do it by myself.” 

“I don’t really see how that’s my problem,” Jonny says. Patrick throws a couch pillow at him. 

“Goddamnit, Jonny, I’m trying to - do you not want to?” 

This is the moment. Jonny can laugh it all off, pretend he hasn’t been fantasizing about Patrick ever since their first encounter. He can turn him down, and things will be awkward, but they can move on like before and Jonny won’t have to have any uncomfortable realizations about himself. There’s no bet this time, nothing compelling him to do what Patrick is asking of him.

But Patrick’s looking at him with those wide, blue eyes, all vulnerability and cheekbones. Jonny really wants to kiss him. 

“I think I can help you,” he says. Patrick brightens. 

“Yeah?”

“Come on,” Jonny says with a sigh, like it’s a burden, and Patrick practically scrambles after him to the bedroom.

It doesn’t take long to get Patrick all open and wet again - they’re just like they were last time, Patrick resting back against Jonny’s chest while he fingers him open, rubbing at his prostate forcefully. Patrick is whining, squirming, and Jonny doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life. 

“Jonny,” Patrick says, “it feels so good. Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Jonny says into the nape of Patrick’s neck. 

“But maybe it could feel better,” he says. 

Jonny’s wrist stills. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No!” Patrick insists, clenching down around Jonny. “But maybe your fingers just don’t reach that well.” 

Jonny’s whole body goes hot and he accidentally flexes his hand on Patrick’s chest. “You want me to use something else?”

He doesn’t get a reply right away. Instead, Patrick just breathes heavily in his arms, tense and unsure. They can’t do this, Jonny knows. There’s too much riding on it; the team, their futures, their friendship. But Patrick’s skin is soft and has a sheen of sweat that makes it easy for Jonny to slide his dick against it. 

“We shouldn’t,” Patrick says. “Right?”

“I don’t even want to,” Jonny says, burying his fingers deep into Patrick and earning a sharp moan. “I told you, I’m not into guys.”

“You seem pretty  _ into  _ me at the moment,” Patrick pants out. Jonny pulls his fingers out as punishment, shoving at Patrick’s shoulders until he starts laughing. Patrick sits up and turns over, balancing on his hands and knees over Jonny and flicking his eyes down to his hard on. 

“You caught me,” Jonny says. Patrick knee-walks further up Jonny’s body until he can rest the curve of his ass right over Jonny’s dick. He starts to roll his hips slowly, the sensitive head catching against his rim each time it passes over it. Jonny grabs Patrick’s waist but doesn’t try to stop him. 

“Patrick,” Jonny sighs out. “This is too much, isn’t it?” 

But he opens the lube anyway. 

“I want to know what it feels like,” Patrick says, watching Jonny slick himself up. “I want to feel you nail that spot with your cock.”

“Jesus.” Jonny shakes his head and grabs the globes of Patrick’s ass, parting his cheeks and rubbing the tip of his dick against his hole. It slips in, just a little, and Patrick lets out an approving noise. “You always get whatever the fuck you want, don’t you?”

“And you reap the benefits,” Patrick points out. He slowly starts to sink down on Jonny’s cock, eyes closed in concentration, gripping the headboard on either side of Jonny’s face. He’s surprisingly good at this, taking Jonny inch by inch and letting himself adjust. Jonny’s impressed with his patience. 

Eventually, though, he manages to sit flush in Jonny’s lap. He keeps shuddering, body wracked with tension each time Jonny twitches or moves. He ducks his head against Jonny’s shoulder, clenching and unclenching, but not moving. 

“You okay?” Jonny asks, stroking down Patrick’s bare back. 

“You’re right there,” Pat mumbles into Jonny’s skin. “You’re pressed up against it. It’s- Jonny, fuck.” 

Jonny smirks and grinds up into Patrick’s body with tiny, hard thrusts, giving him unrelenting pressure on his prostate. Patrick’s dick is wet, precome dripping down his shaft. Jonny resists the urge to reach out and swipe it up with his fingers. 

Patrick’s hands move from the headboard to cup Jonny’s cheeks. His lips are shiny and red from where he’s been biting them, and Jonny doesn’t know where to look. When Patrick starts to move, Jonny can’t help but turn his head to catch Patrick’s wrist with his lips. 

It’s more intimate than Jonny would have expected for some buddyfucking bet, but he and Pat have always been weird. He probably should feel awkward thumbing at the small of his back or nosing at his neck, but he doesn’t. 

Patrick isn’t so much riding him as he is using Jonny’s cock to rub at his prostate, his breath hitching rhythmically as he tries to get closer and closer. Jonny has to resist mouthing at Patrick’s shoulder, kissing his jaw, and Patrick must sense it because his thumb passes over Jonny’s mouth. 

“Should we, fuck, break another rule?” He asks, voice breathy and shaking. Jonny doesn’t even bother waiting before he kisses Patrick. They meet open-mouthed, tongues sliding, teeth scraping against lips. Now he can taste Patrick’s little moans and each one makes him shiver. 

“This feels so fucking good,” Patrick groans into Jonny’s mouth, then tips their foreheads together. “You feel good?” 

Jonny laughs and kisses Patrick again, jerking his hips up into Pat’s body. He’s not sure he’ll ever feel this good again. “You want me to really fuck you?”

Patrick nods and Jonny rocks them back until Patrick is underneath him, his legs pulled up to his chest. Jonny tucks his face into Patrick’s neck, sucking the skin there as he sinks in to the root, Patrick’s noises vibrating against his lips. 

Jonny starts to pump his hips and knows he’s found the right angle when Patrick’s fingernails dig into his upper arms. “Right there, huh?”

“Don’t fucking stop.” Patrick hooks his ankles around Jonny’s hips and tries to drag him in closer. “C’mon, Jonny.” 

That’s all the encouragement Jonny needs to really fuck Patrick the way he wants to. He leans down over Patrick, presses his forehead into his cheek, and thrusts into him hard and fast. Patrick’s mouth is moving against Jonny’s temple, seeking some kind of purchase, but Jonny just concentrates on hitting that same spot relentlessly. 

He can feel Patrick’s dick trapped between their stomachs and it makes Jonny groan. It’s hot and hard and wet and Jonny knows it’s because of  _ him _ . He tilts his chin up and kisses Patrick messily, unfocused, and Patrick clings to him and moans. From the sound of it, Jonny’s pretty sure Patrick can come like this. 

“You close?” It’s a pointless question. Patrick’s shuddered breaths and twitching thighs are indication enough that he’s only moments away, but Jonny wants to hear it. 

“Mm, yeah, I am, I’m gonna,” Patrick stammers. His fingers flex on Jonny’s shoulder blades, digging in tight as Jonny grinds into his body. He slides his hands down over the curve of Jonny’s spine to grab at his ass and pull him in, hold him there, and Jonny surprises himself by coming first. 

“Fuh, oh, fuck,” he says right into Patrick’s ear. He shakes with it, punching his hips forward in sharp thrusts that make Patrick squirm underneath him. Jonny fits his hand between their bodies, and it only takes a couple of strokes and a few well-timed thrusts for Patrick to follow him. 

They catch their breath like that, sticky and sated and a little confused. Patrick’s come drips down his stomach and across the jut of his pelvis. Jonny wants to lick it up, but he ignores the impulse. 

“So, holy shit,” Patrick says to the ceiling. Jonny starts to pull out of him but Pat makes a noise of protest and squeezes his ass. “Not yet.” 

“Jesus, do you always come so much?” Jonny wrinkles his nose and runs his fingers through the mess. Patrick laughs and shakes his head, his pink cheeks a perfect match to the flush down his chest. 

“Nope,” he says, “definitely not.” 

There’s a beat before Jonny finally does pull out. He stretches out next to Patrick and thumbs across his throat before carding his fingers through his hair. Patrick makes a content noise and kicks his ankle against Jonny’s. 

“So, this is good,” Patrick says, eyes flicking over Jonny’s face. “Right? We’re good.” 

“We’re better.” 

“And we’re doing this a lot,” Patrick continues. 

“You’ll have to win a lot more bets.”

“That’s never been a problem for me,” Patrick says. 

And just like before, it’s easy. They throw chirps at each other while they half-heartedly clean up, even talk a little hockey. It’s almost startling how comfortable it is, and Jonny can’t help but wonder why neither of them noticed it earlier. 

“Stop thinking so hard,” Patrick complains while Jonny preps them some afternoon smoothies. “It’s making my head hurt.” 

Jonny throws two scoops of peanut butter into the blender and shrugs. “Just wondering what’s ahead for us.”

“Jeeze, do we have to go ring shopping or something?”

“I meant with the  _ team _ ,” Jonny says. “With our jobs. Our careers.”

Pat takes the spoon from Jonny and licks the peanut butter off of it, shrugging his shoulders. “We’ll figure it out.” 

That cool confidence, the ease with which Patrick moves through the world, that’s what makes Jonny’s heart beat faster. 

“Yeah, we will.” And Jonny actually believes it. 

**Author's Note:**

> [join me on tumblr!](http://hatrickane.tumblr.com)


End file.
